


honey melt and sticky sweet

by Ninyaaaaaaah



Series: honey [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Drunk Making Out, F/M, M/F, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, i haven't written het smut in ages pls be gentle with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninyaaaaaaah/pseuds/Ninyaaaaaaah
Summary: Herc and Peggy take their relationship to the next level





	honey melt and sticky sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to have this up forever ago but shit happens - this takes place chronologically at the same time as the last chapter of part one. Part three should not take me as long!

Peggy flops onto Herc’s bed on her back, arms spread wide, giddy and giggling. The room spins above her, soft light through the shimmery dark brown canopy. She can hear Herc moving around the room, door closed almost all the way. Everything feels fuzzy and far away. 

“Are you sleeping like that?” Herc asks. 

“Mmm?” Peggy rolls onto her stomach, limbs flopping. Liquid. Loose. 

“In your jeans? That I’m pretty sure Laf spilled beer all over? In my clean bed?” Herc prompts. 

Peggy pushes herself up onto her elbow and twists to look at Herc. He pouts back at her, changed into a tight gray tank top and soft boxers that she’s pretty sure she’s worn sometime, plucked from his clean laundry basket. 

“Oh,” she says, and she pushes herself upright clumsily, peels her skinny jeans down her legs and kicks them in Herc’s direction. 

He catches them and turns to hang them on the back of the door. 

Peggy wriggles out of her ruffley blue top and tosses it at Herc’s back, followed by her lacy yellow bra. 

Herc turns back around and throws his hands up in the air, shutting his eyes. 

“Jesus Christ you guys are going to kill a man!” He covers his eyes with his hands, and Peggy can’t help but laugh, flopping back over on the bed, clad in nothing but a yellow lace thong. 

“Can you put a shirt on, good lord,” Herc huffs. 

Peggy rolls onto her stomach again, kicks her feet in the air, delighted. Everything feels warm and floaty, through the gold lenses of too much alcohol and a night surrounded by most of her favourite people. 

A shirt hits her in the back of the head, and she laughs, rolls back over and sits up. 

“I’m not opening my eyes or coming to bed until you have that on,” Herc says, standing at the foot of the bed with his hands over his eyes. 

“Rude,” Peggy pouts, but she tugs the t-shirt on over her head and wriggles under the covers. She stretches out in the middle of the bed, surrounded by soft pillows and Herc’s mint and citrus scent. 

“Why is that rude? I’m trying to be the exact opposite of rude,” Herc says. 

“You don’t think I’m pretty,” Peggy pouts. “You can open your eyes, it’s safe now.”

“What! I do think you’re pretty! I just, Jesus Christ, I’m just trying not to be a perv!” Herc pulls one hand away from his face and hesitantly opens one eye. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her safely under the covers and dressed in his t-shirt, and opens the other eye too. 

“Then why did you make me put on a shirt,” Peggy pouts. 

Herc throws his hands in the air and walks around to the side of the bed. He lifts the covers and gets in, reaches out and shoves Peggy over. 

She laughs despite herself, and whacks him with a pillow in retaliation. 

“Hey! No!” Herc protests, laughing. “I made you put on a shirt because I haven’t been expressly invited to look at your naked body, good lord Peggy.”

“Oh. Well what if I invited you?” Peggy blinks at Herc, head resting against the pillow, expression earnest. 

Herc stares back at her, looking entirely unamused. 

“Are you trying to kill me? Drunk invitations are null and void.” Herc rolls onto his back with a sigh. 

“What?” Peggy says dumbly, blinking at Herc. 

“You’re drunk. I’m drunk. We’re not doing this like this, alright?” Herc says. 

“Alright. What about when we’re sober?” Peggy asks, stinging a little at the blunt shut down. She feels a little small, a little unwanted. 

Herc turns his head and looks at her again. 

“We’ll talk about it when we’re sober, okay?” He says, gentle, sweet. 

Peggy nods, unable to keep the pout from her face completely.

“Hey. It’s not that I don’t want to, promise. You’re gorgeous, but we’re drunk, and I would hate for you to wake up tomorrow morning and regret anything,” Herc says. He lifts his arm up, making room for her. “Come here.”

Peggy wriggles into Herc’s side, hooks her knee over his leg and slides her arm over his chest. He’s warm and solid, and she wants to melt into him and stay there forever, head pillowed on his chest. 

“Promise?” She asks. 

“Promise,” Herc says. 

Peggy tilts her head up, looks at Herc in the soft light of the salt lamps. She’s not sure she’s ever noticed before how kissable his soft lips look, the depth of warmth in his dark eyes… 

She snuggles closer, tilts her chin up, slides her hand up to cup Herc’s cheek. 

“Herc?” She says, soft. 

Herc swears softly under his breath, and closes the distance between them. 

Peggy’s breath catches in her throat and she melts into him. His tongue strokes into her mouth and she can’t help the soft little moan, can’t help the way she arches into him, the wave of desire that floods her body. 

He slides a hand to her lower back, turns onto his side and tugs her closer, and she can feel his cock twitch against her thigh and she wants so much more than just this breathtaking kiss. 

Herc breaks away, leans his forehead against Peggy’s, and swears again, soft. 

“We gotta go to sleep Pegs,” he says, a little gruff. He brushes his fingers over her cheek and she leans in, full to the brim with want and need. 

“But…” she protests softly. 

“No. Sleep. I don’t want to get carried away.” He presses a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“I do,” Peggy huffs. 

Herc takes a deep, slow breath. 

“Listen. If you still want to get carried away in the morning when we’re both sober, I will carry you as far away as you’ll let me. But right now, we’re both drunk, and we need to sleep,” he says firmly. 

“Okay,” Peggy relents. 

Herc shifts back over onto his back, and she cuddles close, her head returning to his chest. 

“Good girl,” he says, and something in her chest warms at the praise. She lets herself relax into his solid embrace, the warmth of his body. 

“Night Herc.”

“Night Peggy.”

 

~*~

 

Peggy wakes to the slow stroke of Herc’s hand down her arm. She opens her eyes and looks up at him, falls into him, warmth and safety and steadiness. She feels a stillness to him that she’s never had herself, and she wants to lay in it, revel in the peace. 

“Hey,” he says. Soft, warm. 

Something in Peggy’s heart swells and warms, and it feels something like the first touch of spring sun on her face. 

“Hi,” she says back. Soft, quiet. 

She snuggles closer, spreads her fingers on his broad, warm back, soft sound of sheets shifting with her movement. He is warm and solid and strong, a safe haven she’d run to without even knowing what she’d been searching for. 

“How’re you feeling?” Herc asks. 

Peggy laughs a soft laugh, because it’s so like him to ask, to double check, to cross his Ts and dot his Is. 

“Fine,” she says, because she is, no hangover to speak of. 

“Good.” Herc strokes his fingers over her cheek, eyes searching. “Do you want to talk about last night?” 

Peggy smiles a cheeky smile and shifts a little, letting her fingers find their way down Herc’s broad chest, his soft stomach. She slips the tip of one finger under the elastic waist of his boxers and watches him take a deep breath through his nose. 

“I don’t feel like talking.”

Herc closes his eyes, and Peggy dips her finger a little lower, the heat of Herc’s skin sending sparks through her body. 

“Shit, Peggy,” Herc says, soft, with a gentle woosh of giving in. 

Peggy lets out a small giggle of surprise, finding herself rolled onto her back, Herc’s solid weight settling over her. She strokes her hands up his back, marvels at the contrast of him- soft skin over hard muscle. 

He settles between her legs, held up on elbows and knees, and he lowers himself to kiss her. 

Peggy can’t help the little moan that escapes her when their lips meet, so soft and gentle for a fraction of a moment before Herc’s tongue licks into her mouth. She arches up into him, desperate for contact, desperate for touch. Her tongue tangles with his, all heat and desperate want. 

She imagines that this is what coming home would feel like. A little piece of softness just for her. 

Herc lets his body settle onto hers, and she can feel his cock harden against her. It sends heat searing through her, and she arches up to rub against him, shifts to wrap long legs around his waist. 

“Peggy,” he whispers, nuzzles into her neck and trails wet kisses over her sensitive skin. 

She lets her hands roam all over his body, tugs his tank top out of the way so she can feel him skin on skin. 

“Herc, please,” she whispers back, full to the brim with want, senses overwhelmed with him. 

“Please what?” he murmurs against her neck. He lifts one hand, strokes it down her side over the loose t-shirt, making her curve against the touch. 

“Everything,” she says, breathless, needy. 

Herc laughs against her neck, and gives a little roll of his hips that makes her gasp. 

“Can I take this shirt off you?” He asks, tugging at the hem. 

Peggy nods, and pushes up off the bed so he can strip the shirt from her and toss it aside. The cool morning air kisses her skin and makes her shiver, and the way his dark eyes drink in the sight of her bare torso makes her shiver. 

“God you’re beautiful,” he says, awed, and Peggy’s sure she’s never felt so _seen_ , so _present_ in her whole life. The way he presses soft kisses all over her body, mouth tracing the swell of her small breasts, tongue teasing the silver barbells of her pierced nipples, teeth counting down the ladder of her ribs, so light, so gentle. 

He kisses her stomach, hands sliding down to grip her waist, thumbs stroking her sides. His nose presses into her belly, wet mouth tasting every inch of her. 

He reaches the sharp crest of her hip, chin brushing the soft lace of her yellow thong. 

“Can I take these off?” He asks, voice hoarse with desire. 

“Please,” Peggy squirms beneath Herc’s hands, lifts her hips and watches him strip her lacy thong down her long legs. She kicks it off her ankle and Herc tosses the covers back off of them. He peels his tank top off and drops it over the side of the bed, pauses to look down at her for a long moment. 

Peggy watches him watch her, feels like she’s burning up from the inside out, all want and need and wet heat curled in her belly. 

Herc smiles down at her, brushes his thumb over her cheek, leans in and kisses her again. 

Peggy melts into his kiss, parts her lips on a needy whimper, lets her greedy hands touch him all over, stroking and teasing and roaming. She strokes one hand to his cock, curls her fingers around its thick, heavy weight through his soft boxers, and revels in the throaty sound of pleasure he makes. 

“Fuck, Pegs,” he groans, right into her mouth like it’s a secret just for her. 

She can’t help but moan back, can’t help the way her hips arch up, the way something in her _aches_ for him. 

She strokes him, a little slow, a little teasing. She loves the way his hips push into her touch, the way his lips part on a heavy little breath, her name on the tip of his tongue. 

He pulls back from her, braces on one arm and strokes his free hand down her belly. 

“My turn,” he says, sly grin on his face as his fingers slide down the line of her hip. “May I?” He asks.

“Please,” Peggy whispers, breath catching in her throat.  
When Herc’s fingers slide slow into her folds, circle teasingly over her wetness, she can’t help the little cry that escapes her throat, can’t help how his name falls from her lips, breathless and sweet. 

He finds her clit with his fingertip, rubs slow circles over it. 

Peggy’s eyes close and she pushes her hips up against his hand, heat coiling and tightening in her belly. 

“Is that good?” Herc asks her, and she can feel him watching her, marvels at the fact that, after all these months of wanting, it’s _his_ fingers stroking her closer and closer to coming. 

“Yeah, press a little harder, but yeah,” she answers, aching for friction, for touch. 

Herc leans in again, kisses her hard as his fingers press down, rubbing quicker, firmer circles that send shocks of heat up Peggy’s spine. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Herc says, low and throaty and just for her. 

Peggy whines, beyond words, her thighs starting to tremble as pleasure builds closer and closer to crescendo. 

She cries out when her orgasm slams into her, Herc’s fingers stroking her through. Her whole body shakes with the force of it, wave after wave of pleasure that steals her breath, drags loud moans from her lips. 

She comes down slow, trembling and breathless, loose smile on her face. She stretches up, kisses Herc, open mouthed and languid. 

“Fuck me? Please?” She asks, right into his waiting mouth so that she feels the way he groans in response right down to the marrow of her bones. 

“I swear to god if I don’t have condoms I’m going to throw myself out the window,” Herc says, and he pushes away from her to dig through the drawer beside his bed. 

“That might be a bit extreme,” Peggy responds with a little giggle. She’s a little strung out, a little blissful, wants to ride the post-orgasm high right into tomorrow. 

“It would not,” Herc retorts. 

He returns, condom in hand, and swoops down to kiss her again. 

“Thankfully, I don’t have to resort to that,” he says. 

Peggy squirms impatiently and runs her hands down Herc’s stomach. 

“Talk less, fuck more,” she teases. 

Herc laughs, and strips out of his boxers, kicking them aside. 

“Yes sir!” he says, and Peggy can’t help but giggle. She takes the condom from him and unwraps it, too desperate to touch to wait for him. She rolls the condom down his length, watches the way pleasure softens his face, the way his dark eyes fix on her like she’s something special. 

She strokes her hands back up his sides and he shifts, the tip of his cock finding her entrance with a slow roll of his hips. 

He sinks inside her inch by inch, and she revels in the incredible feeling of being filled. She wants it to last forever, this sensation of joining, his eyes on hers, the way his lips part on a heavy breath and his cock twitches inside her. When he finally stills inside her, hip to hip, cock fully sheathed in her warmth, Peggy wants to hold her breath for fear of ruining the moment. It sits heavy on her heart, hot through her veins, and she already knows she wants this again and again and again. 

She stretches up to kiss him again as he starts to move his hips. She moans into his mouth, rocks her hips up to meet his thrusts, lets herself get a little lost in the rhythm of it, all heat and sweat and touch. 

He brings one hand up, strokes the side of her face and cups her cheek, looks at her like she’s the only thing that matters. 

It makes her heart skip a beat in a way she’s never allowed it to before. 

“Herc,” she whispers, just to say his name, just to hear it on her tongue laced with heat and pleasure. 

He moans in response, something in him seeming to come loose at the sound of his name on her lips. He thrusts into her harder and faster, the room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, the moans Peggy can’t keep behind her teeth. 

He kisses her ear, whispers a litany of praise right into it that makes her light up inside because it feels so damn good to be noticed, to be wanted. 

Peggy hooks her leg up over Herc’s hips, lets him drive deeper and harder into him, pleasure blooming inside her all over again. 

“Peggy, I-” Herc’s hips stutter, and he presses his face to Peggy’s neck. 

“Don’t you dare come before me,” she hisses, can already feel that delicious coiling in her belly, everything heating and tightening, so damn close. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can-” Herc pants against her neck, cock twitching inside her. 

Peggy’s breath catches at the desperation in his voice, the unraveling of composure. She slips her hand between them, the tip of her middle finger rubbing over her clit, bringing her right up to that edge.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” she says into his ear, pressed cheek to cheek. 

“Oh fuck,” Herc breathes, and his hips piston against her. 

The breathless, throaty sound he makes when he starts to come is enough to undo her completely. She clenches hard around him, body arching off the bed as her orgasm slams into her for the second time, sharper and shorter than the first, but still oh so good.

She lets her leg drop from Herc’s waist, lets her head flop back against the pillows and her body go boneless. 

Herc pulls out, slow and careful, and flops onto the bed beside her, one large hand resting on her belly. 

“Fucking hell Peggy,” he says, out of breath. 

She turns her head to grin at him, and he kisses her sweetly on the mouth. 

“I hope we get to do that again later,” she says. 

“Oh hell yeah.” He pulls her close, and presses a kiss to the side of her head. 

Peggy grins and curls into him, closes her eyes, and lets the afterglow wash over her.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck proofreading.
> 
> also:
> 
> please love me


End file.
